No more WHAT?

It pains me to write this post. In one of those selfish, horrible ways, it pains me. Because I am such a selfish, horrible person.

Okay, not really. I'm being overly dramatic. But I am a little sad.

I love to go to garage sales. If you've known me longer than 5 minutes, you know that already. It would be easier for me to tell you what I haven't gotten that I own that didn't come from a garage sale than for me to tell you what I paid for in a real store. That was awkward. You know what I mean.

I even have blogged about my garage sale experiences:

http://thoughtsfromanoverthinker.blogspot.com/2009/04/its-most-wonderful-time.html


So I really, really told God to just rid me of anything in my life that didn't bring Him glory. And I really meant it. I just didn't think He was going to mess with my garage sales. But He did. Oh yes, He did.

Now I don't know about you, but anytime God messes with something I don't want to give up, the first thing I do is to try to rationalize it. Or justify it. I mean, come on. Garage sales? Tax free, super cheap stuff?

And God said, "Yes. Stuff."

Good grief.

See, I love stuff. Always have. And when I found out that I could go to garage sales, and get more stuff for cheap, I found out I could have MORE stuff! Glee! Happiness! Woo hoo! Cheap stuff!

Better yet, I could get good cheap stuff. Stuff that told the world that I didn't care enough about my money to NOT spend money on stuff such as this. You know, like the time I got a Louis Vuitton purse for $2. I can't get a purse at the thrift store for $2. But the world doesn't know that. It looks like I spent $350.00 on a purse. Why do I want to look like that person? Because I have a messed up view of the world. I have misplaced priorities. Because it became a game to get as much as I could for as little as I could.

Ugh.

Is this fun? To admit this stuff? (Um, no) Is it right? Am I to the place in my life where I'm willing to let go of anything and everything that doesn't glorify God? Why does that scare me so? Because I might be afraid of being one of "those" people? Because if I totally turn my back on this world and all it has to offer, then I have to turn my back on this world and all it has to offer?

Or something like that.

But what about the things I get for people that they need? What about the way I can bless people through stuff I get that they need? God assured me that He's not dependent on my garage sale shopping to provide for those He loves.

Dang.

It's more than just garage sale shopping that's getting to me. God's messing with everything. There's nothing that's off limits anymore. If I were feeling snarky, I'd list everything He's taken away from me that I loved. But you know what? Everything He's taken away from me, I haven't missed. Everything He's taken away, He's replaced with something that brought me closer to Him. Whether or not that shows in my love for Him, in the way I talk, the things I do or the way I live, it's true.

I asked Him to prune from me anything that wasn't like Him. And boy has He.

I'm starting to wonder, "What else?" What else could there be? Not that I'm that good. Or great. I'm not. But what has this culture so ingrained in me that I think is totally okay that's not. If I want to be Holy, because He is Holy, what's next? Do I dare anticipate what's next?

I heard a message not too long ago about Luke 9. All of it was good, and I've reflected on the whole message for awhile, but this is the part that rings in my heart now. It's the last verse in Luke 9, "Jesus replied, "No one who puts his hand to the plow and looks back is fit for service in the kingdom of God."

I can honestly say that I want nothing more than to be fit for the service in the Kingdom of God. So once God gently pries something from the grip of my world loving hands, I can't and don't want to look back.

And it's more scary to ask, "What's next?" But you know what? What ever is next, I won't miss. I know that. Sure in some worldly way I'll say, "I miss ____ or ____ " But really? Do I miss it?

What will I look my Savior in the face when I get to Heaven and tell Him I wish I'd had more of? Anything temporal? Anything that we've created? Anything that He would have had no part of?

Is this all too heavy?

Yes.

Am I drowning?

Yes.

Do I trust Christ?

Yes.

Okay. Deep breath. It's all okay. He didn't transform me overnight because He knew that I couldn't handle that. He's working slowly, steadily, methodically. And I'm glad. Thankful. Blessed.

Why all this need?

I've come face to face with my inadequacies and insecurities here lately. One of them is this need for constant self expression. It doesn't seem normal, really. So I've been pondering why I have the need for it.

I can't remember a time when I didn't self express. Scrapbooking when I was a kid. Journaling up until the time I saw my first blog. Constantly sprouting thoughts and feelings. But those were private and just for me. Nobody had to know or care about what I was constantly thinking about or pondering...

Until the phenomenon of social media/blogs hit the mainstream. Then, suddenly, you can think out loud, and for what ever reason, people are interested! I have thoughts about why people are interested, and most of them aren't good. (I'll not go into that now.) I do actually think that anyone who reads this blog probably has at least 10 other things they should be doing at that moment rather than reading my rambles, but that's probably another post.

But for whatever reason, I felt the need to examine this need/desire to be heard. It's probably part of the only child syndrome that I cultivated for those 12 years I was an only child. Maybe? Or maybe it's not. I do like to blame things on those 12 years, though. It's nice to have that to fall back on.

I met an adorable teenager not too long ago. I don't know very many teens right now, and my life is very much lacking because of that fact. I adore teenagers, and can't wait to have one of my own. I admire their honestly and fresh look on life, among other things. So this particular girl appraised me through narrowly slit eyes, and said, "So what is your thing?"

I blinked and said, "Excuse me?"

She said, "You know, your thing. You look all.... artsy. So what's your thing."

In other words, "You dress like you're artsy, so you'd better be able to back it up."

Kinda like if you dress Emo, you'd better be Emo.

This isn't the first time this has come up. I was having a conversation with a new friend not too long ago. She said something kind of similar, but more in the "what do you like to do? " kind of way. (Perhaps I dressed like I looked like I had something I liked to do?) I laughed and told her I like to take snapshots. She got this puzzled look on her face and said, "Snapshots?"

See, this friend is the wife of a photographer that I am just blown away by. So I told her I couldn't tell her that I liked to take photographs, becuase that would sort of be like telling Michelangelo that you like to watercolor, like he does. She had the precious grace to roll her eyes and tell me I was a tad crazy. Yeah, well...

So back to the appraising teenager. I was left stammering something about liking to write and take pictures and uh, you know...

She looked slightly disappointed, like I should have told her I had a three story art studio where I had tons of natural light and created life-sized sculpture or something like that.

*sigh* Maybe I should start wearing Dockers and sensible shoes.

Because honestly, I don't know what my "thing" is. Maybe this is my thing. Talking. Or writing. Good grief. That's not a talent.

As I pondered this whole self expression thing, I got a little down on it, thinking that really it's just a narcissistic way of getting attention. "Look at me. LISTEN TO ME! I will NOT be ignored..." Really? I want everything in my life to be God-honoring and God-glorifying. How in the world is this going to be that?

And then my sweet Lord, oh He is so patient with me. (Thank you, Lord. Thank you.) He pointed out that He needs people to express. To talk. To write. To share.

I mean, I am good at that. I'm not sure at what number of an audience I'd be nervous in front of, but so far, I haven't found it. I mean, I'd probably get nervous, but I'd talk anyway. That's probably not hard to imagine. There's not a subject I won't talk about (as evidenced by this blog) and there's no thing I won't discuss. I mean, won't God, couldn't God use that? Couldn't that be a ministry?

I hope so. Because aside from appearing like I'm an artiste, I'm not sure what other talents I have that God is going to use. (Writing, speaking, talking, hugging...?)

Oh, or maybe that pondering thing. I guess He could use that. I had a dear friend, who is blessed with the gift of faith (oh that elusive gift of faith that is so foreign to me) tell me that I needed to "just let things go" instead of pondering them so much. I rared up a little (a lot) and said, "Fine, what if C.S. Lewis had 'just let it go'? What about Tozer or Spoul or Packer or Bounds? And countless others? What if they had all let it go? Where would we be now?" Sorely missing them and their writings, I'm sure...

(and I am SO not equating myself with those guys. That's just laughable. Where are the women, by the way? Don't women theologians write books? I'm sure they do. I just haven't found them yet. Don't they? Aren't there some?)

I can't let things go. I don't know how. And honestly, I don't want to.

Anyway, God has used my ponderings. I see that. I just have to be careful to ponder the correct things. And then write about those things. Then maybe, just maybe, I can wear my black Converse with pride. I earned those shoes with my ponderings. And my writing. And my talking. And I can save the Dockers for when I'm.... okay, well, never.

Read this now.

Don't Be Afraid

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Spring Break '10

The irony was that I didn't plan for us to have a Spring Break. We were way behind in school, so I thought we'd just plow through and maybe play in the afternoons. Our surprise beach trip took care of Monday and Tuesday, and Wednesday we had plans all day. Honestly I decided that I didn't want to do two days of school, so Thursday and Friday we played literally all of both of those days. Saturday we spent all day with friends and Sunday was spent with family.

We had so much fun, and I'm glad now that we took the week off. We'll make up the school somehow. The house will get clean, the laundry will get done. It will magically get done, and I'll forget the disaster it all is now. The fun we had, the friends we are blessed with, the time we all had together far outweighs the responsibilities that were shoved aside for one week.

I never get tired of saying how blessed we are with friends. God has been so generous with the people He has put in our lives, and I never EVER take that for granted. I know that it's not usual to have this many people that love you, and I thank God for His blessings. There are so many people that I didn't get pictures of that we spent time with this fabulous week, and know that I love you and treasure you also! More than you know, really.

Thank you, Lord, for a week where You showed me Your love in such a tangible way. Thank you for the people in my life who love me for who and what I am, and ignore how very hard I make it for them to love me at times. Thank you for their patience, their devotion and their love. Thank you for the presence they are in my childrens' lives and for their love for them. I am truly blessed.

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Beach!!!

Allen texted me at 4:30 on Friday and said, "Beach. We're leaving at 10 in the morning. Free place to stay. Coming home Tuesday."

Um, okay. Now I've always wanted my husband to plan a spontaneous trip somewhere, and I was glad he did. Then I panicked. I usually take a week to plan a beach trip. Clean the house. Make lists. Pack. Plan. Not this time!

I didn't start packing until the next morning really, since I didn't tell the kids we were going until the next morning. I did it! I didn't freak out, I didn't panic and I didn't drive anyone crazy. (so he says.)

The condo was gorgeous. Just beautiful. We were so glad to be there. It was cold. I mean COLD. Saturday through Sunday night we had what they called "pre-hurricane winds." 40 mile an hour winds. And they were cold. We had fun anyway. And being at the beach in the cold was an assault on the senses. Cold and beach weren't used in the same sentence until now. I liked it. I liked having the doors on the balcony open. I liked being cold at the beach.

You know, just because. It's Zane.

We played Putt-Putt for the first time ever, rode Go Karts for the first time too and ate way too much fabulous food. I got to read a lot, the kids played and we came home feeling like we had a great vacation-some time away. I'm so thankful for God's blessing. And for sweet friends who share the wealth! :)

Am I responsible for what I don't know?

I was feeling pretty convicted about something not too long ago. I made some changes based on what I thought I was being convicted about and all was well. After realizing that I needed to get all my blog posts out of my head, I sat down to pound this particular one out. I started typing, and something in me just needed to research this topic out a bit.

Come to find out, what I was being convicted about wasn't actually a "law" at all. I sat there, staring at the computer, wondering how the heck I didn't know that already.

Now maybe God just wanted ME to observe this particular something, and that's fine, but what bothered me was that I didn't already know the scriptures referring to this thing. And I really felt like I should have.

This brought me back to the "what else do I not know?" question. I am already a little panicked about the years I spent away from the Lord. I feel like I have a lot to make up for. I feel like I should be way far ahead of where I am educated spiritually. And why am I not? Because of how I spend my time.

"I don't have time" never flies with me. I have the same 24 hours in a day that any person in the world has ever had. I fill my day with temporal things that make me feel good in the moment, and then wonder why I don't know more than I do. Even in prayer, I find myself severely neglecting the one thing that I need more than anything. Martin Luther is widely quoted as saying, "I have so much to do today that I should spend the first three hours in prayer." Goodness.

I thought that once God removed television from my list of priorities, things would get easier. And it did, in some ways. Although now I'm having to guard myself against being one of those people who sniff, "I don't watch television..." Big whoop. It's not whether or not I'm watching television. It's how much time I'm spending in the WORD. And what a slippery slope the computer has become. I think it's so easy to not watch television becuase I have the computer. It's screen time, and it's taking me away from studying God's Word. That thrills Satan. Oh yeah.

I'm having a much easier time limiting the computer than I ever did television. Good news. God is good.

It's a work in progress, but my desire is to stay in the physical Word. Keep my Bible open, in the kitchen, pick it up, flip through it, recite it. (This is outside of my dedicated time to study God's Word. We've gone through that lately, so we won't do it again. My excuse was, "Well, I studied this morning, so I'm good until tonight when I study some more. Ugh...) Even in those 5 minutes that I usually plop down and check email, to instead go to the Word. Shouldn't that just be natural for someone who says they are seeking Christ? What the heck is wrong with me?

And I can't complain about what I don't know. I know why I don't know it.

And are we held responsible for what we don't know? Since we have the Word readily available, the Spirit to help, should we know what's in the Word? Do we have any excuses?

I don't.

*and just to add, I do watch television sometimes. It remains one of the only ways I can completely turn my brain off. And we all need that to happen sometimes. :)

Guilty by reason of insanity

*First of all, I want to thank those of you who have said nice things about this blog to me the last few weeks. Especially those of you who did it in person and received a slight nod and a stammered, "thank you." I never know how to respond to comments about what I write here, probably because it's so naked and personal that I normally just assume that no one reads it. That way I don't censor myself. But when I realize that people do read it occasionally, I get a little self conscious and don't respond correctly to those who do say nice things. I'm so sorry for that. Please know I am blessed by you even if I look like I'm about to throw up. And thank you for your written word too. Huge blessings. Really.

I read something this week that said that getting 80% of what you are thinking to your blog is better than 100% of it in your brain only. Hold up, that's not what he said. This is what he said: "Dear writers & bloggers, I've said this before and I can't say this enough, 80% perfect & live always beats 100% perfect & stuck in your head." (Wow, I was so way off on that one.) I'm not sure I agree with that, especially sensing the disaster I'm about to create here. I am sick of having this stuff roll around in my head, though, so 80% or not, here it comes. I might also add that this is actually about three posts in one, so that ought to whip this post into a scattered frenzy. Ready or not, here we go.

The craziness partially started last Sunday morning when a guy in our church came to our small group to share about a ministry he started. I'll share more about the ministry later. I knew he was coming, and while I was excited about hearing his heart, I was also kind of dreading it. He does what I would love to do. I mean like an "If you could do anything in the world..." sort of thing, I would be something like this. As soon as he started to talk, I whipped out my hanky, which one of my friends in our small group found highly amusing. Can I just ask why I've turned into the hugest cry baby in the world? I used to tease one of my sweet friends mercilessly about her crying, and now I'm just as bad, if not worse. At least she won't have to cry alone now. If fact, during the last movie we all saw, I think I cried more than she did. (And yes, I cried the on and off through out the whole small group. Goodness knows what the poor speaker guy thought.) Good grief. Anyway...

I watched this presentation with an aching heart. Selfishly, it was hard. My head was whirling and my heart was heavy when I left small group and walked into our worship room. Then our pastor delivered a sermon that just blew me away. I know I say that a lot, but this time really was just... oh, I don't know. It just tore me up. And not really in a good way. Then I happened to sit down and see the link for the "Kisses for Katie" blog I linked earlier this week. I read that, and that was it. I was just done. DONE.

Fast forward to this morning, and I had a quick conversation with The Wonder of Chelsea. She's a phenomenal person, and I think she nailed me to the wall. And I don't think she meant to, but you never really know with her. ( I love you, really.) We were talking about the Kisses for Katie blog, and what The Wonder said, basically, was that for the 6 years that she's known me, my heart has been for missions. For helping the hurting. Or not hurting. Just helping. (And spreading the Gospel, I'd like to add.) And in these 6 years that I haven't been doing that, I've reeked of guilt because I haven't been doing that. The thing I want to do so much. Go. And help.

Now first of all, it was early this morning when we had this chat, and I was still mighty sleep deprived. She may not have meant this at all. That's what I came away from the conversation with, though. I haven't done anything. About what I want to do.

Another one of the posts I've been wanting to write was entitled, "Losing My Religion." (I don't know where I come up with these titles, but I do love that song still. What ever happened to REM?) This post involved my van. I loved my old, run down van. I was perfectly happy with it, and despite Allen wanting to replace it with a not so run down version, I refused, happy to drive my same old one. Except, that, God began to gently point out that maybe I loved it too much. Maybe what I was saying by driving my old van was that I was too spiritual and too Godly to drive a new van, perish the thought. I was actually taking pride in the fact that I drove an old, run down van.

Can you believe it? How can one person turn driving a clunker into a Pharisaical show of debauchery? One day I clicked on our friend's car website, and there sat a used van that just screamed out to me. Well, actually that was probably God yelling at me, but anyway, I called Allen and told him there was a van we could go look at. He was more than happy. Along with one of the sliding doors that now refused to open, the "check engine" light had come on in our old van, and along with everything else that was wrong with it, he was just ready to let it go. So we traipse down to the dealership and a few several short hours with 3 young children in a dealership full of luxury cars later, I was the owner of a "new" van.

Did I mention this was all the day after the Haitian earthquake? I have to admit that I went into the dealership bathroom and cried, hating that I had to buy a van when all I really wanted to do was get on a plane to Haiti. And give them that money. Not that that makes me a better person or anything. I just hate living in a society where I need stuff like this. But nevermind that. I called my super patient and ever wise friend and said, "A new van? This isn't RADICAL..." I think I cried again. To make matters worse, it was a fully loaded van. It had leather, a dvd player and, to my horror, heated seats. Ugh.

I churned this all over in my heart for a couple of days, when another of my dear friends asked, "Amy, why can't you see that God blessed you with this van? Don't you think that He might be blessing you, especially since you drove a bottom of the line van for like a hundred years?" (Hey, I liked that it had no bells and whistles. It had automatic door locks and windows. A first for me. That was luxury in my book!) But did she have a point? Did God bless me with the darn thing? And not to mention, did I need to be thankful, especially since my precious husband worked hard to provide that van and was ever so happy to do so?

I then had to go back to the dealership the next day to have the van cleaned and whatever they do to it. So they give me a loaner car. They roll out a $50,000 Acura MDX and sent me off in it. I was a nervous wreck driving that thing. It was so loaded, it basically could have driven itself. I did have fun with the bells and whistles, and then, suddenly, after driving it for about half a day, I realized that I was looking at the world differently. I was looking down on people driving clunkers, when I had been driving a clunker less than 48 hours earlier. I felt so sorry for people in their old cars while I cruised around in my small suv that cost as much as houses that I used to help sell a hundred years ago. Once I realized what driving this thing had turned me into, I was ready to give that thing back. What the heck happened? What had driving that thing done to my spirituality? Is my faith that fickle?

Now I'm not saying that you can't be rich and love Jesus. God blessed people in the Bible with great wealth-people like Job and Solomon. This is just all about ME. And how stinky and sinful I am.

So that was it. I felt guilty for driving a van, a "new" van (it's a 2004, btw) because there are people in this world who sleep in card board boxes, and since I'm not helping them, I can feel guilty about driving a new van. At least with the old van I didn't feel as guilty, since they wouldn't have wanted that one anyway. (kidding)

That brings me full circle to what The Wonder and I were talking about this morning. My guilt. I feel guilty for sleeping in a soft warm bed at night. I feel guilty that I have too much fresh, clean water at my disposal that I waste every day. I feel guilty that I can go to Pulbix and just buy food-whatever I want. I feel guilty that I can worship freely, in a country where I'm free to do so. I feel guilty about it all.

And you know what else I realized this week? Not only was I jealous of Katie of Kisses for Katie because of what she gets to do, I feel like she's more deserving of God' love. And of salvation because of what she's doing there. She's certainly more deserving of love from people in her life. Certainly.

It's been a rough week.

So why? Why don't I just get to it? Over and over this week it's been brought before me that you can't wait on a certain feeling or a giant lightening bolt from Heaven before you do something. You just do it out of obedience to God's Word. And everywhere I looked this week, it seemed like everyone was doing something. Except me.

And this is where it is for me. I'm selfish and horribly self centered. I want to be doing what I want to be doing. I want to be living in another country doing serving those people there. And you know what God said? He. said. No.

*sigh*

And it's not just a cop out. He really said no. "Not right now."

And how, you ask, is that possible? That God would tell you NOT to obey His Word of going? I think because of what He has in store for me. He's just saying that it's not time yet. That I will get a chance to go. But not right now. And you know what's harder for me? It's harder to sit still and wait. I feel like I'm watching a football game from the sidelines, constantly yelling at the coach, "Put me in now! Hey, I'm ready! PUT ME IN NOW!" And the Coach is saying, "No, you really aren't ready yet. You have more to do, more to learn, more area to obey. Then you get to go in. But even when you do go in, you have to do it My way, and not your way."

So in the mean time, instead of finding ways here to serve and do, I just feel guilty. For what I'm not doing. Because then at least I'm doing, and not just waiting. Because see, I'm a doer. I like to be moving. Doing. And God is saying, Wait. And Be Still.

And I can't move to Eastlake. Or Gate City. (Don't make me explain it. Just go here and watch it: http://www.brookhills.org/media/series/a-chronicle-of-redemption---part-2-the-law-of-the-land/

And I wish I could. Because then I wouldn't have to feel guilty about living where I do. Can you stand it? How in the world did I get here? So guilty?

This is what I learned this week. Partially what I learned this week. I have to walk in obedience. I can't go and do because God said not to. I could go on mission trips, I could move to where ever I wanted to, but God has not ordained that, and He's not allowing me to. He has said "no" and whether or not that makes sense to me or to any one else, that's all that matters. I know what He said in His Word, and I do want to go, but while He said "Go" there, what that looks like in my life is not necessarily the version of "Go" that I think He's saying in the Bible.

Clear as mud? See, maybe that whole 80% is overrated. Maybe this all made more sense in my brain. Maybe I need bullet points.

• I'm happy and desperately thankful for the van that God and my husband provided.
• I can't move nor travel the world, but that is okay, for now.
• Until God says "Go," I'm staying put. I'd rather obey Him than anything else.
• It's okay that I have a bed to sleep in and food to eat.
  
• I can hear a sermon and be deeply affected and challenged, yet obey what God is telling me, even if that looks differently that what I think the church is looking for.
• It's a heart issue. God is concerned about the condition of my heart, and He will work in my heart until it clearly reflects His own.
• I know that guilt is from the devil.
• I know that God loves me as much as He loves Katie in Uganda.
• Writing a blog post when you're sleep deprived is probably not the way to go.
  

I need to focus on ways that I can "go" here. There are things I can do while I'm waiting. I'm asking Him to show me those things that please Him. That push me out of my comfort zone. That preach that Gospel. That show the world how much He means to me. I'm praying that I'll pull a Nike and just do it. Just go. And do. And stop feeling guilty.